


Glasses 6

by Authormitchel



Series: Glasses [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Weasley family get together, Established Relationship, M/M, mention of MPREG, no one is actually pregnant, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:55:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authormitchel/pseuds/Authormitchel
Summary: Harry maybe sweaty and they may be surrounded by too many Weasleys, but Draco doesn't care. Draco takes Harry's glasses off.





	Glasses 6

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I love reading your comments and kudos are always appreciated. Follow me on tumblr at thinkmyhappythoughts or twitter @ Mitchel_chelsea.   
> And Jo, if you're reading this, I have an idea.

“Draco, will you hurry please. We’re going to be late,” urged Harry from his place in the hall. If Draco never had to see another Weasley in all his born days he swears to Salazar he won’t say a word if his and Harry’s future child is a Gryffindor. As long as he doesn’t have to carry and he doesn’t have to see another red head again, he would even glady welcome a Hufflepuff back home for summer break. Anything to get him out of this. He’s pulled from his thoughts as a pair of arms wrap around his waist and pull him back to the present. 

“You know they love you. I don’t know why you do this. You know they love you,” Draco pulled away, moving toward the closet. “I killed one son and maimed another, they can’t possibly love me.”

“Stop with the shock tactic, Malfoy, it isn’t going to get you out of this. You’re my husband now, doesn’t that mean anything?” 

Malfoy? Ooops. 

That always meant that he was serious. It wouldn’t be too bad, he supposed. He’d get to see Angela, George’s wife. She was, at least, tolerable and Molly Weasley’s cooking couldn’t be beat and he had been into a debate about some piece of ministry legislation with Granger-Weasley. 

“Fine,” said Draco. “If you insist we waste our Sunday at a noisy hovel then so be it.”

Harry didn’t fire back, merely delivered a quick, sloppy kiss to Draco’s check and went to get his cloak knowing that Draco’s words were more acceptance than rancor. 

The Burrow was different than the Manor in many ways. There were no iron gates, no house elves, and absolutely no sense of propriety. When they arrived, Ronald was walking around the front yard shirtless, covered in dirt as he manhandled a wrangling beast Draco was ninety percent sure was an animated gnome though to be fair it could have been one of their offspring. Granger stood close by ready to cast several scourgifys before he got a chance to come back in the house. 

She kissed Harry’s cheek and greeted Draco as they entered. The inside of the house was as loud and as busy as the outside, and some of the would be attendees weren’t even there yet. Just as that thought entered Draco’s mind, Fleur, Bill and their brood Floo’d into the room. 

“Harry! Draco!” Fleur exclaimed when she saw them. Bill handed one of their children off to Molly before shaking Draco’s hand and giving Harry a hearty pat on the back. 

“Alright, Harry?”

“Good, Bill. Hey, Dominique, come here,” Harry took the child into his arms and moved toward the door. Noticing Draco’s newly panicked expression Harry assured him that he’d be back before he knew it. Well, that had later covered, but not now, and right now, the twin with the one ear was looking at Draco like he was a member of the Wizengamot and Draco was on trial.

“and what exactly are your intentions with Harry, sir?” George asked Draco, like they haven’t been married for nearly four years, and like Draco hadn’t been at present at the Burrow for nearly every Christmas, random family birthday, Halloween, and every other holiday and Sunday dinner in those four years. 

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco replied, “Just waiting the appropriate amount of time to make you all believe I love the ridiculous sod before I AK him, take his money, and live forever on the public’s pity of being Harry Potter’s widow.”

Draco was losing his touch. Before, that response would have earned him a shocked gasp or a couple of wands pointed at him, but now, George merely laughed and asked Draco if he could help him out in any way since his plan was obviously shite if he thought the public would turn friend instead of ferocious hoard after Harry’s sudden and unexplained death. Draco wondered briefly if he could blame the whole thing on George, before a look from Angelina made him change his mind. 

Nah, that witch would go after Draco without so much as a “How do you do?” if he tried to frame George.   
Draco takes Harry’s glasses off. They are at one of the Weasley kid’s birthday party and Harry has been running around like a child while Draco has been conversing with the adults. He learned long ago that Granger wasn’t that bad of a conversationalist and that even if they didn’t talk Ron was good for a game of chess. Mrs. Weasley cooked like no one he had ever seen and it was actually interesting speaking with Arthur about his job in the Muggle Division. 

When Harry sits by his side, sweaty from chasing Rose, Teddy, and Louis around the garden, Fred the second on his back and Hugo on his leg, he looks exhausted but supremely happy. Draco takes his glasses off and wipes them against his shirt, cleaning them for his smiling husband. When Draco looks back up he almost doesn’t want to put them back on his face because the fond look that meets him is too beautiful to cover up. 

Draco knows that Harry wants children, but so far, Harry hadn’t been able to convince him, but seeing Harry like this, so happy and carefree even with a load of children all vying for his attention, Draco feels more than ever that maybe he wants that too. 

Harry leans his sweaty forehead against Draco’s and Draco doesn’t care if Angelina is watching them from the other side of the table. This is his husband, darn it, and he will be disgustingly affectionate with him if he so well pleases. And one day, one day soon, Draco will be spared of having to spend another birthday at this hovel. Because their child’s birthday will be held at their home. 

“I love you, Draco,” Harry says. And Draco loves him too, he really, really does.


End file.
